


Wild Man Tamed

by HornyJail_Inmate



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Branding, Collars, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, No Proof Reading we die like Men, Please Don't Hate Me, Torture, Whipping, Whump, breaking a big boy, disgusting self indulgence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HornyJail_Inmate/pseuds/HornyJail_Inmate
Summary: After an ambush goes awry, Little John is captured and gifted to a close friend of Vaisey. Said friend has a peculiar way of spending his spare time. Will Little John be broken and turned into his tormentor's new toy? How much pain can he handle?
Relationships: Little John/Original Male Character, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Branding

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE REMEMBER; DEAD DOVE! DO NOT EAT! The dove is dead and decaying! Please be aware this is gonna be painful for Little John and fun for me and I hope other fellow awful people. This is your last chance to turn back or get a snack and some water for this wild ride.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He will be branded, he will become his property.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead dove do not eat. This is your opportunity to grab a snack or get some snacks and water.

The air was damp and hot, that’s the first thing he realised upon waking up. Then he noticed that he was chained up to a wall, shirtless and on his knees. As the feeling in his limbs returned he realised he was in pain, tired and hungry. Little John blinked a few times so the world around him wasn’t a massive blur. He was in a cell, that’s how much he could tell. It wasn’t a strange thing to be stuck in a place like that, an outlaw like him had seen many before, both inside and outside. No, what bothered him was that it didn’t feel like a castle’s dungeon or prison. Little John was alone down here, usually, there’d be a few other prisoners around or guards at the very least.  
He closed his eyes again, trying to remember what had happened. There was an ambush, or was it a trap? Either way, they had all been cornered. He told the rest of the group to run since they were outnumbered, he’d hold them back. Of course, loyal Robin Hood and the others refused this plan, said that they wouldn’t leave him behind! But Little John had protested and promised that everything would be fine, he could fight them off and would join them all later for dinner.  
Everything would be fine…

He had underestimated their strength. Yes, he was a beast of a man, but even the strongest beast tired out. Together they had managed to capture him after a battle that seemed to go on forever and then-

“Trust me, my friend, you will be delighted.”

Little John heard the voice of the Sherriff of Nottingham. He didn’t seem to be alone though.

An unknown man spoke up “The way you described him to me leaves little to my imagination.”

And the two stepped Infront of his cell. Little John glared as he always did to instil fear in the people eyeing him. The strange man wasn’t afraid though, he laughed! This skeletal man with seemingly sunken in eyes and almost a line for a mouth grinned at him.

“My, isn’t he a wild man?”

Little John growled lowly, prompting the stranger to laugh again.

“He is perfect, I must thank you Vaisey!”

“You are welcome, Oswald. Be sure to enjoy yourself.”

This Oswald looked once again at John, something dark glimmering in his eyes “Oh, I am sure I will.”

Oswald. That name hung in John’s mind. What did this man want with him? What was he perfect for exactly? The door to his cell opened suddenly and without warning, he flinched at it. This skeletal man stepped in, this Oswald, smiling. It wasn’t friendly and it had about as much warmth as a wild wolf baring its teeth. Little John growled, pulling at his restraints, in the hope this would scare the bastard off.

“You don’t seem to understand who I am.”

Little John wouldn’t answer him, this decision earned him a sharp kick to the stomach. He suppressed the urge to groan. This man seemed to be stronger than he looked. But he gritted his teeth.

“Your name?”

John glowered.

Another kick to the ribs, one which seemed to knock the air out of him.

“Your name?” Oswald repeated himself, sounding impatient.

Once more he didn’t answer.

Oswald chuckled to himself, kneeling slightly to look Little John in the eyes. He took the opportunity to spit in his captor’s face. No reaction, just more amusement, as he grabbed him by the chin.

“I see, you are indeed a strong-willed man.” Oswald’s hand wandered to Little John’s neck and started to squeeze just a little bit, not enough to cut off oxygen but enough to make him uncomfortable. “I wish to change that. You see, I am a busy man. A very stressed man.” He continued his explanation, squeezing tighter “So to unwind, I take to break men like you. Big, strong men. Good looking men-“

And with that Oswald pressed a harsh kiss on Little John’s mouth. He needed a moment to truly understand what was happening to him, this wasn’t a romantic or tender gesture. This kiss was biting and cruel, with the tormentor shoving his tongue in as far in as he could. He felt like throwing up, but quickly he got himself together and headbutted the other, something he’d come to regret.

Oswald stood back and shook his head, clicking his tongue, then left.

For a moment he allowed himself to relax but it was short-lived.

“I will be frank with you. Your name is of no value to me.” Oswald had returned with a cauldron full of hot coal and a branding iron, bearing an O with an S in the middle. “I will refer to you from now on as ‘Dog’.”

“Good. You don’t deserve to know me.” Little John finally spoke, making sure to sound as defiant as he could.

“You are able to speak!”

Oswald fell silent after that, smiling to himself as he heated the branding iron. He could feel the heat on his face and bare chest. He knew what was going to happen next, but he had to get through it, grit his teeth and accept the inevitable. He wasn’t afraid to die, he wasn’t afraid of pain. The branding iron was glowing red once it was taken out of the cauldron.

Little John felt how his body was pushed forward, his arms stretching out behind him and his forehead almost touching the grimy floor. He gritted his teeth, bracing himself. The searing pain of hot iron scorching his back made him almost scream out. He tried to get up again, but Oswald had placed the heel of his boot against his neck and contorted like that he could do nothing but endure it. The shackles started to chafe his wrists. There was a moment where he could feel himself panic, his heart was pounding fast in his chest and the world was starting to get blurry.  
But Little John didn’t beg, he didn’t scream or move an inch. He just let it happen. When it was finally over he felt worn out and nearly collapsed, but he remained strong despite all of this. He looked up, feeling sweaty and disgusting.

“Now everyone knows you are my property,” Oswald whispered into his ear, then licked his cheek.

“I am not your property!” Little John barked back, his voice strained from exhaustion “I never will be- “

He felt the other punch the part of his back that was permanently branded and a pained groan escaped him.

“Quiet Dog! I will send one of my servants to clean you now.”

Once his tormentor had left, his body went limp and his defiant expression finally betrayed the scorching pain he still felt. He wished he could see just how badly he was burned and if the mark would be permanent. The door opened again, Little John braced himself for whatever would be next, but all he saw was a timid young man, carrying a pail of water, a jug and a rag.

The young man put the pail down and John snarled, causing the other to flinch back. It wasn’t his intention to terrify him, but he didn’t want anyone else putting a hand on him after this, so he kept glaring, every time the young man tried to step forward, he’d growl and snarl at him like a rabid dog-

Dog.

He calmed down but kept an eye on the man. He seemed to be Will’s age, maybe a bit older.

“I’m sorry-“ the young man apologised nervously “I know it’s… painful but I have to do this, or I’ll get punished as well.”

Little John nodded. He wouldn’t have this man face the brunt of his anger. Poor him was probably in a bad situation of his own. The young man drenched the rag in soapy water and started to carefully scrub out the dirt and grime on him, everything accumulated from living in the woods. He was surprised at how gentle the other was, even taking care not to worsen the injury. Then he put the jug to his lips. Water, it was fresh and ice-cold water. He greedily drank, only now noticing how thirsty he was.

“I know Master has called you Dog.” The young man said, “but what is your real name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I’m-“ he looked around Awkwardly “I have seen many men crumble at the branding iron, but you... You’re different. I want to know why.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. 

“And I’d feel bad referring to you as Dog.”

He sounded naive. It almost made Little John laugh how kindness can be found in even the darkest of places. He didn’t say anything. It was best not to grow attached to him. The young man seemed a bit disappointed at that. 

“I understand.” Before he left, he paused “my name is Henry.”

“Henry.” Little John repeated. Henry picked up the pail, jug and rag, then left without adding anything. The cold water on him felt soothing as it dried. He closed his eyes to try and sleep at least a little bit. Just rest for a while and pray that Robin and the gang would come to his aid like they always would. He didn’t fall asleep as much as he passed out from the sheer exhaustion. He had to stay strong. Robin Hood would save him.


	2. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dog needs to be trained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead Dove, do not eat. If you're still here, you still have time to run away. This is only a taste of things to come (no pun intended)

Little John wasn’t woken up as much as he was torn away from the blissful embrace of sleep. He saw Oswald towering above him and he was still kneeling weakly on the floor. His entire body felt stiff from the uncomfortable sleeping position as well, but John had the feeling that this would be the last of his problems.

“Good morning Dog.” Oswald said with a mocking smile “have you slept well?”

He growled as an answer and was slapped hard across the face for it. It stung a little, but it wasn’t anything he’d think about. Little John grinned “I didn’t even feel this one, bastard.”

Another slap. “Hopefully this is more to your liking.” His tormentor sounded offended, it was a small triumph to Little John, but a triumph no less. Oswald inhaled deeply “regardless, I am here to introduce some rules.”

Rules?

“But before that-“ Oswald got something from a leather pouch fastened to his belt. It was a lavish golden collar “I have brought you a gift, my pet.”

“I’m not putting this on.” Little John hissed in disgust “I am not your sodding dog.”

“I beg to differ.” Oswald pointed at the mark on his back “this is my seal. I put it on all my belongings. Now put on the collar, Dog.” He stepped closer and he almost managed to put the collar on, but Little John bit his wrist. Oswald screamed out “HENRY!”

Henry entered the cell and John immediately let go of Oswald. The two looked at each other for a moment and he felt ashamed of himself. Henry once again looked terrified of him. Oswald didn’t notice this wordless exchange though “Henry, be a dear and put the collar on Dog.”

Henry did and Little John let him. He heard a distinct clicking noise as the collar locked in place. It was tight on his neck and breathing was hard. The precious metal was cold against his hot skin and he wanted to claw it off his neck. Oswald looked incredibly pleased; Little John glowered back.

“Now, now, what is this? Aren’t you happy with your gift, Dog?”

Little John didn’t reply.

“You will come to love these acts of kindness. I promise you that.”

Little John looked over to Henry, who was looking back with a sad expression.

Suddenly Oswald grabbed the collar “I know your kind. Wild and uncivilised outlaw men. Nothing more than an animal. A common mutt.” He was close to Little John’s face, he could feel his hot breath on him “you believe yourself to be strong and proud, able to withstand any amount of pain. But no. All men break eventually.”

“I will not.”

There was a moment of silence between the three men, as Oswald let go and eyed him with a lustful hunger in his eyes. Little John didn’t want to imagine what the other was thinking about right now as he licked his lips.

“The rules.” Oswald finally said, “they’re simple to follow, even for the likes of you.” He paused and licked his lips again, excitement took over his features “five lashes for speaking out of turn, ten lashes for disobeying me-“ Oswald paused again, holding his crotch and breathing heavily “one hundred lashes and an act of gratification for your Master if you harm him.” He finally let out a moan.

“I do not agree with these rules.” Little John protested, immediately pulling at his restraints. His collar was grabbed again and he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Let us see now… Oh, dear. So many missteps already.” Oswald’s fingers were underneath the gold collar, pressing on his neck “well it’s still your first day of training if you were to treat me, there’d be no need for immediate action.” Oswald let go of the collar, giving Little John space to breath, but soon he could feel the other’s hand grabbing and pulling his unkempt hair “I could put that filthy mouth of yours to good use.”

He grimaced “try your luck and you might find yourself less of a man than you were.” His hair was pulled harder so that he had to look up at his tormentor. Before he knew it, there was a knife to his throat. The hunger in Oswald’s eyes became ravenous, his arousal was shining through. From his heavy breathing to his flaring nostrils. The knife was pressed to the side of his neck.

“Open your mouth Dog-“ Oswald demanded with a breathy voice.

Little John knew, either he followed the order or he’d be killed. As much as he preferred to die with dignity than satisfy this vile man, Robin Hood and the gang would come to his rescue. He’d need to be alive for that.

So he did as he was told. Little John opened his mouth and the other impatiently thrust his member in as deep as he could, causing him to gag. Oswald let out an amused chuckle as he thrust again to make Little John gag.

“Good Dog. Good Dog-“ Oswald moaned loudly and thrust harder, faster. Little John felt nothing but disgust and his desire to bite as strongly as he could was threatening to take him over. His head was moved against his will, forward and back, the cold knife scraping against the collar and making a teeth shattering noise. Each thrust was done so that it went as back deep into his throat as possible and every time he made a distressed gagging noise, Oswald moaned louder in approval.

“Your tongue, use your tongue!” Oswald commanded loudly and Little John felt his entire body fight against it. He wanted to throw up, he wanted it to be over. His hair was bunched up in Oswald’s fist and his scalp hurt from all the tugging “tongue!”

Little John groaned in pain but complied, running his tongue alongside the tormentor’s shaft until something disgusting and salty filled his mouth and Oswald sighed contently “good boy-“ he muttered and pulled out of his mouth “swallow.”

He thought about the knife still at his throat. Swallowing it was awful. It felt sharp, it burned and stung all the way down. But even worse was the humiliation he felt, the thought that Oswald had entered him in this way-

Oh God, he needed to throw up. Little John lent forward to his best avail and heaved, emptying the contents of his stomach right in front of Oswald.

“You filthy Dog!” Oswald exclaimed “oh, I can’t punish you for that. You aren’t trained. You will get used to it; I’ll make sure of that.”

But John was doing his best to ignore him, letting his thoughts drift away. Oswald had left the cell, left him kneeling in front of his own puke. Henry left too but returned to clean up the mess he had made.

“You don’t have to do this.” John mumbled.

Henry smiled at him “I want to do this. I have cleaned worse messes.” Then after cleaning he freed him from his shackles. Little John immediately lied down on the ground and rubbed his wrists. His whole body ached.

“Thank you.” He looked over to Henry.

“Would you like something to eat or some water maybe?” the younger man asked politely.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” Little John asked back. As nice it was to get a bit of respite, he didn’t want anyone to risk their well being for him. Henry shrugged in response. His expression was tired, the face of someone who has seen a lot in a short time. He knew that expression, it was one he carried himself in his youth.

“I’m used to cleaning up my master’s messes. He doesn’t mind me taking care of his, as he puts it ‘pets’. As long as I don’t let them escape.”

Little John curled up on the cold floor, closed his eyes and nodded “Water would be nice. Thank you.”


End file.
